


Portable

by mylifeinshadow



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 22:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeinshadow/pseuds/mylifeinshadow
Summary: For the XFPornBattle on Tumblr.Prompt #4: Scully wears a portable vibe and gives Mulder the control.





	Portable

**Author's Note:**

> This is the filthiest shit I've ever written. You've been warned.

You’d imagined it in every way possible — angry, rushed, bent over that desk of yours; drawn out, teasing, dirty. So many scenarios, but your mind had always taken you back to slow, sweet and loving — the way you know it would be with her. As much as you’d allowed your mind to wander along with your greatest fantasies, you’d never realistically expected sex with Scully to be anything other than leisurely and sensual. And it was, for a while.

It was the night of the movie premiere, that she first surprised you. A belly full of room service and expensive wine had your partner feeling particularly generous. At that point, you’d only been sleeping together for a couple of weeks, both illness and work getting in the way of being able to properly worship each other’s bodies. You’d only slept together three times (or was it three and a half? You always had an issue with technicalities.)

At that point, you had just been excited by the prospect of a hotel room, LA’s light pollution pouring through open curtains, allowing you more than just a glimpse of Scully’s body open and ablaze with arousal.

It was nothing compared to your utter delight as she teased you with that glorious mouth for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until you were absolutely positive that you were going to embarrass yourself that she took mercy on you, slipping you inside and riding you stupid — until you forgot all about Wayne Federman and Associate Producer Walter Skinner and Gary Fucking Shandling.

The next couple of weeks were a complete revelation. You almost feel like a fraud, calling yourself a profiler. Here you thought you’d had your partner completely figured out, and you hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. Turns out, Scully is full of surprises — from a penchant for giving awe-inspiring head (she is Catholic, after all), to a need for mild domination — both of which you are more than happy to provide.

The biggest surprise though, you find in a drawer in her bedside table. You’re not really sure what you were looking to find; not really, anyway. Any evidence of devices she may or may not have used to get herself off before the two of you began sleeping together would have more than satisfied your curiosity. This is unexpected, though. This is something else entirely. You happily take note of the price tag still attached as she walks back into the room, freezing when she notices what you have dangling on your finger.

A smug grin spreads it’s way across your lips, and her fair skin immediately begins to flush. You find it absolutely adorable that this woman, who not ten minutes ago came from the sensation of your hand striking her ass, still has it in her to blush upon catching you with her personal devices.

“Mulder,” she admonishes weakly, and you’re out of bed before she can even begin to properly scold you. In seconds, you have her bent over the foot of the bed, pressing a pair of panties and their attachable vibrating bullet into her face as you rub the hard ridge of your cock between her unbearably soft ass cheeks.

“You’re wearing these to work tomorrow,” you manage to growl out, and you accept her responding gasp as her compliance.

—-

It’s 8:02 in the morning, and you’re already as hard as a goddamn rock. You showed up a bit early to work this morning — an amazing feat, considering the events of the night before — to find that Skinner was requesting your presence in his office. 8am sharp, he’d said, and even though you’d quickly relayed the message to Scully, you still found her bustling into his office three minutes late, looking rather flustered.

“Nice of you to make it, Agent Scully,” your boss deadpans, and she has the decency to look remorseful as she takes the seat next to you. But Skinner’s punishment has nothing on you own, whether she’s decided to follow your instructions or not. You’ll soon find out, you think, as you listen to your superior drone on about expense reports.

You chime in when you need to, digging out files and receipts from your folder to back up your claims. Scully has always been more organized when it comes to this, though, so you gladly let her take the lead as you fiddle with the tiny remote you’d taken upon yourself to memorize in your pocket.

The redhead has your rapt attention as she explains your travel expenses, and you can’t help but think now is as good a time as ever to test how well she follows directions. Seeking out a tiny button on the remote, you press just once, pleased to hear her gasp in response, even as the file in her lap falls to the floor.

“S-sorry,” she stutters, shooting you a dangerous look as you bend to retrieve the scattered reports. You remain the picture of innocence, content to watch her struggle.

She seems to recover fairly quickly, just barely squirming in her seat, but upon further inspection, you notice the bead of sweat dripping down between her breasts. You wet your lips, and suddenly you’re suffering just as much as she is — your tongue desperate to chase that little droplet beneath the scoop neck of her shirt, to taste the desire you know you’d find if you could just lift up her skirt and –

Scully clears her throat, a warning in her eyes, and you begrudgingly peel your eyes away from her cleavage, but not before pressing twice on the button in your pocket.

The effect is immediate, and if Skinner wasn’t suspicious before, he definitely is now. His eyes meet yours, and you feign innocence, giving him a shrug and a frown in response. Your partner’s body jerks and shivers before you.

“I, uh,” her voice wavers, and you play the part of concerned friend, reaching to place a hand on her shoulder, but not before the back of your hand brushes over a stiff nipple. She whimpers, and you work hard to control a satisfied grin. “I-I’m not feeling so well. Would you excuse me?”

With that, she stumbles out of the room, and you watch with a frown on your lips, even as you turn off the power with the remote. An actor, you are not, but you’ve had plenty of practice being concerned for your partner over the years. And an investigator, Skinner is not, because he finds the entire act convincing enough to let you go, with the promise that you’d pick up where you left off tomorrow.

The trek back down to your basement office is agonizing, your body aching. You can only imagine how frustrated she is right now — how close she must have been to coming, how desperate she must–

All thoughts come to a stop as you all but tumble through the door, eyes falling upon her immediately. She looks so hot, sitting on your desk, legs crossed, body flushed, absolutely seething. Oh, she’s pissed. Positively fuming. Oddly enough, this is the one reaction you really hadn’t considered.

“Scully,” you begin, an apology sitting on your lips. With a single hand up, she puts a stop to what is surely going to be an overflow of verbal diarrhea. She doesn’t speak; not yet. Her focus is off, you realize, and she can’t quite seem find the words to actually reprimand you for your actions.

Moments pass, tension builds, and your eyes take in the state of her arousal. Her legs are still tightly crossed, and you swear you can see the muscles of her thighs tensing as they squeeze together. While her expression displays anger, her eyes are dark; lidded, completely glazed over. And all at once you realize — she liked it. She can’t rationalize it; wants to be angry that you brought this into work, that you almost embarrassed her in front of the assistant director, but she liked it.

Just like that, you’re strutting over to her, a smug grin tugging at the corner of your lips. She barely has time to figure you out when you’re spreading her legs apart, pulling her towards the edge of the desk. Her hand instinctively comes up to rest against your chest. Her attempt to push you away, and you chuckle darkly as you grab her wrist.

“Mulder,” she huffs, and while she’s trying so hard to sound angry, her voice sounds too low, too needy. She clears her throat, tries again. “What you did in there was absolutely unacceptable–”

Her voice trails off as your fingertips make a slow trail up strong thighs, and you know you’re on the right track when they part instinctively beneath your touch. You lean into her, hear her labored breathing as your fingers work their way closer to their target. The heat is absolutely radiating from between her legs, but you refuse to give in yet.

“I think you liked it,” your murmur in her ear instead, and her body tenses up in denial. You laugh at her response, allow your hot breath to caress her ear, can feel her desperately trying to keep herself from shuttering. Sharp teeth graze her ear as your fingers find their way home, pressing against the small, vibrating bullet in her sodden panties until she can no longer hold back her needy whimpers.

You marvel at the feel of just how wet she is, your fingertips slippery with her. before they can even touch her directly. “I never pegged you for an exhibitionist, Scully.”

You give her no time to argue as you push her panties aside, thrusting two fingers knuckle deep into her depths. She cries out, grabbing onto the back of your neck as her pelvis thrusts forward to meet your hand. You’ve barely had a chance to withdraw before her walls are clenching in on your thick fingers, nails digging into your nape.

You realize then and there that this isn’t going to be with the slow, dirty seduction you’d planned on. You can’t deny her orgasm when she’s pleading breathlessly in your ear and all but humping your hand. Judging by the wet spot you can feel soaking through your dress pants, you’re not exactly far behind.

Much to her dismay, you withdraw quickly, ignoring her cry of discontent. Wet fingers work quickly at your belt, pants and briefs falling to your knees as you step into her. She looks absolutely delicious like this, skirt bunched up against her hips, panties pushed aside to expose her glistening cunt.

Unable to wait another moment, you grab her hips in a bruising grip, and in an instant, you’re inside of her. She cries out sharply, her walls gripping you tightly as they contract. She’s so eager — so ready, and you’re absolutely brutal, slamming into her with as much force as you can muster.

“God, you really got off on that, huh,” you pant, taking her breathy moan as her admission. “Loved the thought of me making you come in front of Skinner.” Her responding whimper is enough permission you need to proceed. “You like an audience? Is that it?”

“Please,” she begs, smooth legs wrapping around your waist, heels digging into your ass.

Your thumb brushes over her clit, just gently enough to tease before backing off. Her voice wavers as she cries out, begs for it, and you pull out teasingly.

“Tell me,” you demand as your hips snap forward. Her cries rise in volume with each thrust, but words fail her — something you find yourself immensely proud of.

“Tell me,” you repeat, your hand coming down hard against her ass.

“Yes,” she sobs as your hand snakes it’s way between your bodies, rubbing roughly at her swollen bud. “I liked it. I loved it.”

You growl, smack her clit, and just like that, she’s coming undone. Tight walls grip you almost unbearably, and you follow just behind her, roaring into her shoulder.

The aftershocks seem to last forever, her cunt making a valiant attempt to keep you there forever — something you only wish were possible.

“Scully,” you murmur against her collarbone when you’re capable of making words again.

“Hmm?”

“Got any other personal devices I should know about?”


End file.
